Short Shorts
by Andrew Nixon
Summary: VARIOUS DOCTORS. Seventeen short story ideas, 'vintage' Doctors. Explanatory note at the end.
1. Chapter 1

THE PAST LIFE MURDERS

Partial Synopsis

The 6th Doctor, Frobisher, Jago and Litefoot. (Frobisher is initially disguised as Leela.)

" _I've had the most terrible morning Professor, I didn't know where else to go. Y'see, I woke up drunk with blood on my hands, and all I could think of was those ghastly murders._

' _You don't think it could possibly be me doing these dastardly deeds do you?"_

There have been some gruesome killings and Jago and Litefoot are on the case.

Jago finds himself much more involved in the investigation than he would like. He has absolutely no recollection of the previous night, and fears the worst.

Litefoot is supportive and suggests a visit to a hypnotherapist. (Perhaps recommended to him by James Braid, although he died in 1860 and I'm not sure of the J&L timeline.)

Much against his own personal prejudice and prior experience with 'mesmerism' ("My Heavens, Henry! Hypnotism is the absolute opposite of that bunkem!"), Jago agrees. An appointment is arranged.

The Doctor and (ostensibly) Leela arrive for a visit during the ongoing proceedings.

Although there is no actual evidence that Henry is guilty of anything happening currently, regression therapy appears to indicate that he has lived a previous life, as he possesses knowledge that he shouldn't.

Things get a little odd for the Professor when he returns home to find Miss Leela has left, and the Doctor now has a pet penguin that he plans to use in a ventriloquism act.

Jago is impressed. "Dashed clever idea, never seen it done with livestock before. How do you move his beak?"

THE PAST LIFE MURDERS

Sample Narrative

"Not on your life Doc!" Frobisher exclaimed, backing away as fast as he could waddle, "I know why ventriloquist's dummies have got such big eyes!"

The Doctor did a startled double-take, then threw his arms wide in exasperation. "You won't actually _be_ a dummy, you dummy! We just need to create the illusion that you are, so as not to startle my friends!"

Frobisher was shaking his head as only a penguin can. "Ventriloquist, illusionist, whatever 'ist' you want to be, just count me out Pal."

Anything else he may have planned to say was cut short, as the door was thrown into his face with gusto, and Henry Gordon Jago bounded enthusiastically into the room.

He immediately clasped the Doctor's hand in both of his, and began to shake him silly. "My dear Doctor, trust you to turn up in my hour of need! My abject moment of direst crisis!

'As soon as George told me that you had arrived I knew that my troubles were all but over!"

A polite cough drew their attention. "Is Miss Leela feeling any better Doctor, only I picked up something on the way home that… um, where is she?"

Litefoot had scanned the room, and now he turned back to the door as if intending to peer out.

The Doctor extricated himself from the impresario's grip, patting him on the shoulder to indicate that no offense was intended. "I'm afraid I had to take Leela back to the Tardis, George. She really shouldn't have left her sickbed, but would she listen? Anyway, I've brought something else back as a surprise."

The Doctor drew up short as the Professor closed the door and peered down at the now visible Frobisher, lying comatose on the carpet. "A dead penguin? Well, I must say it's an odd sort of gift, but I'm sure that Mrs. (_*) will be able to make something of it."

The Doctor gently edged past his friend and knelt down to lift Frobisher into his arms. "You misunderstand me Professor, Frobisher isn't a gift - he is a friend, my traveling… pet. And I certainly hope he isn't dead, the little chap is quite important to my act!"

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 _(Later…)_

Frobisher paused in his ruminations, unsure that he had heard correctly, then slowly turned to gaze quizzically at Litefoot.

The old coot was as white as a white bag full of white things, almost as if he'd seen a ghost.

"You're actually talking!' croaked the Professor, taking a steadying breath, 'a real, live, talking penguin!" He looked about to fall over.

"Don't be absurd old chap!' Frobisher extemporized, frantically trying to emulate the Doctor's vocal mannerisms, 'I've already explained all that! I simply project my voice to make it appear that it is coming from the penguin."

"But the Doctor isn't here." Litefoot gasped feebly.

This gave Frobisher pause, and he began to look around the room surreptitiously.

"He and Henry left the room some moments ago', Litefoot continued, 'didn't you hear the door?"

It was true, the Doctor was no longer present. With a sinking heart Frobisher looked back up at the Professor.

"Err… Gottle o' Geer?" he asked hopefully.

 _(*Does anyone recall the name of Litefoot's housekeeper?)_


	2. Chapter 2

A STUDY IN STILL-DEATH

Partial Synopsis/Proposal

This is intended as a story about the 8th Doctor some time shortly before Night of the Doctors, when he is still skating around the periphery of the Time War. However, I don't want to get too specific here, as I'm not sure what we are allowed to do with this aspect of the Doctor, or what plans may already be underway. (Haven't heard Doom Coalition, for example.)

So. Basically the Doctor has been avoiding involvement with the war, but due to its very nature the occasional encounter is inevitable. One of the Doctors friends or companions becomes caught up in something, the Doctor wants to help. He discovers that the information that he needs is only known by one particular Time Lord, Castellan Dominuso. (Hopefully I made him up.)

He arrives in time to witness Dominuso's death, but also sees himself present there with the warrior Time Lord, and realizes that he must go against all his previous beliefs about the Laws of Time. But surely, in this case, it can be permitted - or forgiven - because he has no intention of changing events by saving Dominuso's life.

The Doctor just wants to snatch a few nanoseconds of time, in an accelerated deep-scan contact with the other Time Lord, to retrieve the information he needs.

The entire story takes place in the time it takes the bullet to kill the Castellan.

A STUDY IN STILL-DEATH

Sample Narrative

Picture this. A frozen tableau. Two men, both Time Lords, stand motionless on a battlefield; a study in still death.

One has a hand clasped to the forehead of the other, as if they are paralysed in the prelude to a baptism.

The same two Time Lords are circling this display, eying each other warily.

The shorter of the two allows himself to be distracted by an abstract sculpture of flesh and shrapnel a short distance away. "Under other circumstances one might consider a forced contact of this nature to be the height of barbarous bad manners, Doctor." He says imperiously.

"I would apologize for my rudeness Castellan, but I am a little pressed for time."

Ignoring the Doctor, Castellan Dominuso takes the three steps necessary, to enable him to study the object suspended in the air before them. "You say that without a trace of irony."

He moves behind the bullet and sights along its direction of flight. "Yet you are not the one who is being shot through the head with a primitive projectile weapon.

'What are my chances, do you suppose?"

The Doctor shifts uncomfortably. "I honestly couldn't say, Castellan Dominuso. I have never seen a Time Lord shot through the head with a primitive projectile weapon before today.

'I have met a Time Lord's brain that survived the death of his body, but he was, in his day, an exceptional Time Lord.

You, Dominusoluxatormaran, as much as I hate to speak ill of the dead, were not. I think the question you should be asking is not, will your body will regenerate after your brains get blown out of the back of your skull, but rather…

'Do you really want it to?"

The Castellan grimaces. "I see that your penchant for tastelessness has not mellowed. Why are you doing this? No. First tell me how you are doing this."

The Doctor studies the other man carefully; realizing for the first time that Dominuso's mental self-image is reverting to an earlier, gentler incarnation. "Do you know what they say about drowning?"

"Who?"

"Does it matter? It's just something I heard somewhere. 'A drowning man's whole life flashes before his eyes'. A comforting thought.

'Of course, you are not drowning, you're being shot through the head."

"I am well aware of that, Doctor, you don't need to keep reminding me."

The Doctor almost smiles at the others indignation.

Almost. "What I was going to say is that, although we cannot experience your _entire_ life's memories in this contact, I mean, drowning is much slower than…

'Well, you know. But the principal remains. I'm hoping that in this accelerated thought state we can perhaps discuss just one tiny segment of your life."

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

"You do realize that my Battle-Tardis and I are telepathically linked, do you not Doctor?"

"As I am linked with my own Tardis, of course Castellan."

"But is your Tardis conditioned to self-destruct when that link is permanently lost. When you experience your final death?"

The Doctor is horrified. "Certainly not! Is this some new atrocity inspired by your Time War?"

"Naturally. Can't fall to the enemy, can she? Of course, this planet will not survive the catastrophic release of so much temporal energy, but that is the price they pay for allowing me to die."

The bullet is now pressing into the back of the Doctors hand, dimpling his flesh. "How long do you think you can stand the pain Doctor?' the Castellan asks.

'And how long do _I_ have before it enters my head?"

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 _Obviously if I write this one up I no longer need to worry about what anyone else has written – the joy of Fan Fiction! If you haven't already seen it, go to the Social Media page at and check out 'The Paul Spragg Memorial Short Trip Opportunity'._


	3. Chapter 3

SQUARE PEG

Partial Synopsis

The 4th Doctor and Adric, set between TV episodes Warriors Gate and The Keeper of Traken.

Much of this would be a glimpse into how the two of them relate to each other in this new dynamic, probably a pretty prickly relationship in the early stages.

I imagine that at first the Doctor may be considering just how soon he can reasonably 'lose' Adric on a nice friendly planet. _("It's no good, the boy will have to go!")_

For his part, Adric is starting to question his own motives for stowing away in the first place. It is becoming increasingly evident that he has, in fact, stowed away with a lunatic!

Whilst they are engaged in a yet another verbal sparring match, the pair become aware that there is something else in the Tardis. I would like to suggest that it's 'The Watcher', but if that isn't allowed I can invent something else.

It's not actually a threat or a menace, but something trying to deliver a warning, or maybe ask for help.

The thing is, Adric is from a different universe with different rules, and he evolved from a spider. _(Gross over-simplification, subject to change.)_ Who is to say that his current form is his evolutionary apogee, now that he is no longer in his home universe?

So, _(The Watcher)_ has a message for the Doctor, but is necessarily nebulous and vague, drifting about the room indicating specific switches on the console.

The Doctor works out that it wants him to go to a particular destination, and sets about doing so _. (If it is The Watcher, would this be the Doctor's first glimpse of it?)_

On leaving the Tardis they find themselves in the ubiquitous 'dodgy research installation', where all sorts of unpleasantness is occurring behind closed doors.

It would be nice to create a new villain or two here, but I haven't given it much thought at this stage.

All that matters is that Adric is to become a new study subject.

Perhaps he has a minor accident, and his rapid healing ability draws unwelcome attention. He is easily seduced with food and flattery, and actually finds the revelations about his unique (in this universe) biological potential completely fascinating.

Having left Adric in (he believes) safe hands to recover from his injury, the Doctor does a little exploring, as is his wont.

Although this place does seem to be run along ethical lines, he can't quite shake his nagging doubts.

After all, why would he have been sent here, if everything really is as cozy as it seems?

SQUARE PEG

Sample Narrative

The Doctor was _not_ sulking, although if truth be told he _was_ feeling a little frayed around the edges.

He was beginning to suspect that travelling with Adric would be much like being locked in a classroom full of inquisitive Time Tots.

It was not a prospect that he relished.

It wasn't even as if he had _invited_ the Alzarian to join him in his travels! No, the cheeky little upstart had stowed away! In _his_ Tardis!

The first that he knew of the boy's presence was after he, Romana, and K9 had left Alzarius far behind. It had been something of a shock to return to the console room after a little snooze, and find the lad pottering around the place, as if he had every right to be there!

Not being a volatile chap, the Doctor had calmly and politely enquired just what the boy thought he was doing…

It had taken several minutes to catch up with the stowaway after he had, _totally_ without provocation, fled in panic into the depths of the Tardis.

In fact, if the lad hadn't tripped over K9…

Well, that was all water under the duck's pajamas, as the Shobogan's say. Now that he had so brilliantly - and skillfully - effected their escape from E-Space, it rather looked like the Doctor was stuck with the boy.

Leaning moodily against the console, he gazed around the empty control room, clicking his tongue against his teeth thoughtfully.

It wasn't as if he wasn't _trying_ to get along with Adric. He was! He really _was_ \- but the boy was just so insufferably irritating!

Knowing that Adric had a penchant for the subject, the Doctor had attempted to pour oil over troubled feelings by sharing a mathematical conundrum with the lad.

It was a particularly juicy one, and the Doctor had been saving it for when he had the time to _really_ get his teeth into it.

Adric had scrolled through the problem on the screen with indecent haste.

He couldn't _possibly_ have read all the equations, let alone digested them!

Then, with just a few casual keystrokes, he had totally messed up all the Doctor's preparatory calculations!

Patting the console in satisfaction, Adric had murmured "That should do it!" and then wandered off to inspect the hat-stand, for some reason.

Of course, the Doctor had had to manufacture an emergency and bundle the protesting boy out of the console room, with strict instructions not to return until it was safe.

He'd _had_ to!

Unfortunately, no matter how many times he checked Adric's conclusions, he could find nothing wrong with them.

He was beginning to feel just a teensy bit guilty.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "But you're not asking the right questions Adric! You need to ask things like "What's going on Doctor?", or "Where are we Doctor?", or – my own personal favorite, "What's that Doctor?"

Adric suddenly bellowed, _"What's that, Doctor!"_

Although somewhat startled by the volume, the Doctor was absolutely delighted by the sheer enthusiasm of the boys response.

"Yes! That's it!' he grinned happily, 'That's it _exactly!_

'Although, you don't actually have to shout you know, the Tardis has excellent acoustics, and I _am_ standing right in front of you."

As he spoke, the Doctor realized that this was no longer the case. The boy was backing away from him, eyes wide in alarm.

Adric's pointing finger was shaking with nervousness, and he now appeared to be having some difficulty speaking.

"Ah…' the Doctor muttered quietly, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable.


	4. Chapter 4

AN INVISIBLE FRIEND

Synopsis/Proposal

The 8th Doctor.

This is set during the 8th Doctor novels* when he is traveling to St. Louis 2001 the old fashioned way. (One day at a time.)

To the best of my knowledge there are only five novels in this arc. I don't know if it occurred in any other media so, if this idea has been used before, my bad.

There are gaps in this journey, some much longer than others, where we have no knowledge of what he was doing. I don't imagine that the Doctor was simply hibernating between the First and Second World Wars, or keeping a low profile from 1951 to 198_. However, that is too much to deal with unless we just consider discrete elements, minor fragments of the kaleidoscope.

So let's say a child is born just before The Great War, probably a boy, as the sexual politics of the times to come would severely limit a female protagonist.

(This rough date is suggested as he needs to still be alive later in the Century.)

As he grows up and lives his life he continually hears of, and encounters, a man who never ages.

He is usually only ever peripherally involved in these situations and this man, whom he once hears referred to as 'the Doctor', never really notices him. He becomes increasingly obsessed with this 'Forever Man' as he thinks of him, and begins to follow any accounts or references he can find that may be related to him.

And he decides that he wants to help.

It probably wouldn't be advisable to implicate him in any of the published novels, but I can read them again if there is any interest in the idea.

For the moment his name is unimportant, but he should probably be in the military, or a spook, or both. This explains his access to information, and his presence at the points of conflict where the Doctor so frequently makes an appearance.

So, one possible timeline:

Encounter One: 1923. The boy is ten. His father died in The War, nothing unusual in that, except that he didn't die in France. The boy's mother says it happened somewhere in Yorkshire, but she doesn't know any details. Officials and their secrets.

Now his friends are full of talk of strange goings on here at home. He investigates. He see's something he doesn't understand, something bad very nearly happens to him. A man in a green jacket saves him.

Two: 1930. Something witnessed decides him to join the army at 17. The man in a green jacket was involved.

Three: 1944. Having survived through-out the war, he is now an operative or sniper in France during the dying days. He is instructed to kill someone, but once he has the target in his sights he realizes that it is the man in the green jacket.

He doesn't pull the trigger.

From now on he is actively trying to track down the Doctor.

On some occasions he comes very close to actually meeting him, but something always prevents it.

He becomes increasingly convinced that the Doctor is a force for good in the world.

*'The Burning', 'Casualties of War', 'The Turing Test', 'Endgame', 'Father Time'.

AN INVISIBLE FRIEND

Sample Narrative

 _(Note: This is totally off the cuff and un-researched, it is just written to give the flavor intended.)_

I returned from overseas just in time to catch the tail end of some flap in London, something to do with The Underground of all places!

Everything was decidedly hush-hush and, quite frankly, smelled of a cover-up to me. (Hmm… Elspeth always used to chide me for my suspicious nature, I recall.)

However, one pertinent item did find its way across my desk eventually – the name of the chap in command of the military response - and there were also some vague intimations circulating of a 'mysterious' individual who had provided invaluable assistance.

Being somewhat familiar myself with secrecy and misdirection, and overly acquainted with the Holy Trinity of 'Rumors, Gossip, and Lies', I nevertheless believed that I had enough clues to allow myself some hope.

This incident had all the hallmarks of a situation that would draw 'the Doctor', like a moth to a flame!

I hadn't seen Lethbridge-Stewart since Korea some _ years earlier, and whilst I had followed his own career with interest, I thought it unlikely that he would be familiar with mine.

I wasn't even sure the man would recognize me, anonymity being in my nature both personally and professionally; but I wangled my way into a private party nonetheless, with the intention of 'accidentally' bumping into him.

Now a full Colonel, Lethbridge-Stewart ( _"Please, call me Alistair, Sir"_ he murmured to me politely) had lost none of the keen wit, and sharp observational skills, that had so impressed me back then.

I regret to say that I did not return his kindness, instead allowing him to address me by rank, as my superiority permitted. I no longer had any doubt that he knew exactly who I was.

We exchanged small talk for some time, comfortable in each other's company - I congratulating him on his well-deserved rise through the ranks, he enquiring after my health - were the old wounds giving me any trouble, that sort of thing.

It was only as he passed me a large brandy and asked if my wife was well, that the conversation faltered momentarily.

He had always been a good sort, and I regretted his discomfort and genuine distress as he offered his condolences but, being the bastard that I am, I chose that moment to broach the subject of the Doctor.

This evidently took him completely by surprise or, perhaps, had shocked him deeply, for one eyebrow rose an entire eighth of an inch before he composed himself.

"Doctor?" he enquired mildly, swirling his own brandy beneath his nose. "Medical chap?"

I was obliged to explain my interest in, and desire to meet, this fellow that might possibly be known to him. Alistair studied me shrewdly over his drink.

"Describe him to me." He suggested briskly. And so I did.

I pride myself on an ability to read faces, so my heart sank as I told him about the man in the green jacket.

Whilst he listened politely, it was evident from his total lack of recognition that Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart had never met the Doctor, or anyone even vaguely resembling him - and was now wondering how to deliver this news without embarrassing me.

As I said, a good sort.


	5. Chapter 5

THE RUNAWAY TARDIS

Partial Synopsis

The 3rd Doctor, Jo, the Brigadier and UNIT.

The Doctor has been 'messing about' with his blue box again, and the Brigadier is dismayed to see that it has left UNIT HQ of its own volition.

Even the Doctor himself is unsure if it's something that he has done, or the result of hostile action by unknown outside forces. (Possibly the Master?)

Regardless, the end result is that the Tardis is on the run, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

Easy enough assumption to make.

However, the Doctor is very much afraid that there is an alternative explanation.

He suspects that the Tardis has become fixed at a precise point in space and, being functionally indestructible, to all intents and purposes is now an immovable object.

Unfortunately - the Earth is still rotating.

Luckily, there must also be a time displacement factor involved, or she would be 'travelling' at over a thousand miles an hour. _("Approximately 1037 mph at a rough guess, Mike. Perhaps moving at walking speed is the Tardis' attempt to mitigate the damage… the best she can do under the circumstances."_ )

Maybe to give the Doctor time to work out what to do about the situation.

The Brigadier suggests various courses of action, and some practical stop-gap solutions (such as warning people to get out of the way!) but there is _definitely_ no proposal to _bomb_ the Tardis.

Jo suggests that, since the Tardis is travelling in a dead straight line, it should be easy to work out her route and warn people ahead to clear a path. This would be an excellent idea, the Doctor explains, _if_ the Earth had a perfectly smooth surface… at a constant height corresponding to the Tardis' fixed location.

Unfortunately, this is not the case. It is bad enough that she will plough through any buildings in her path with ease, the Doctor is more concerned about larger obstacles.

She won't just leave a Tardis shaped hole should she get as far as, for example, the Himalaya's. No, the immovable object will be opposed by _ miles of solid rock, being propelled by the entire mass and inertia of the planet!

THE RUNAWAY TARDIS

Sample Narrative

"What in Blue Blazes in going on?" The Brigadier, a picture of apoplectic fury, stood four-square in the doorway to the Doctors laboratory like the Wrath of the Almighty.

Unable to venture further into the room themselves, Captain Yates and Sergeant Benton craned their necks to gawp in astonishment at the devastation.

Brick and plaster dust still filled the air, as the Doctor leaned somewhat woozily against a workbench.

Jo Grant was cautiously attempting to smooth the lapels of his smoking jacket, whilst simultaneously brushing plaster flakes from his exuberance of white hair.

Beyond them a somewhat disheveled Corporal Bell was peering nervously from the next room, through a large hole in the wall.

Noticing the Brigadier, the Doctor straightened himself up. "Ah, Lethbridge-Stewart, just the chap I wanted to see! Do stop fussing Jo, there's a good girl."

He sounded uncharacteristically subdued, but the Brigadier was having none of it.

"Answer the damn question Man! What have you been doing with that box of yours, and why is it rampaging through _my_ Headquarters?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to formulate a satisfactory response, but was forced to admit defeat. "I'm afraid I'm not entirely sure Brigadier. As you may be aware, there are one or two gaps in my operational knowledge of the Tardis.

'I was just studying a few circuits, trying to jog my memory y'see, when the Old Girl… Well, she threw me out."

He cast a rueful glance at the scuffmarks on the floor, leading to the hole in the wall. "I'm afraid that, as you can see, the Tardis has left the building."

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

"Well you heard what the Doctor said, Benton. Double away!"

Benton snapped smartly to attention. "Yes Sir! Right away…

'Er, where to Sir?"

"Haven't you been paying attention, Man? Follow that box!"

Benton saluted smartly, about-turned, and headed at a run for the hole in the rear wall. He was brought up sharply by a parade ground bellow of _"Benton!"_ , and returned to find the Brigadier holding out a walkie-talkie.

He took it somewhat sheepishly. "One question, Sir. What should I _do_ with the Tardis when I catch up with it?"

The Brigadier raised a sardonic eyebrow, then aimed it at the Doctor.

"That's a very good question, Sergeant. Any suggestions, Doctor?"

"Well… I would advise that Sergeant Benton just keeps her under observation for now.

'You may want to warn any pedestrians in her path to step aside, Sergeant, but I wouldn't get between her and any brick walls if I were you!"

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 _(Later…)_

The Brigadier continued barking orders. "Captain Yates, chivvy up a support squad, and requisition some vehicles. Liaise with Benton until the Doctor has worked out exactly where his blessed box is going!

Corporal Bell, get me a helicopter from somewhere, preferably one with heavy-lifting capacity.

Miss Grant. Please try to get through to Geneva again for me, if you would be so kind. I need to tell them…"

He paused mid-sentence.

"Doctor? What _exactly_ am I supposed to tell Geneva?"

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 _(Does anyone know where UNIT HQ was actually supposed to be in the early '70s?)_


	6. Chapter 6

BUT IT'S MADE OF CARDBOARD!

Synopsis/Proposal

The 2nd Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe.

Let's start with a simple premise. The Tardis has landed inside the Tardis. It begins like this…

The Doctor, Jamie, and Zoe are relaxing in the Tardis and recovering from their latest adventure, when it 'lands' unexpectedly.

The scanner indicates a breathable atmosphere but not very much light, so they arm themselves with torches before venturing out into the darkness.

By unspoken disagreement they each head off in a different direction.

Jamie encounters a wall with a worryingly familiar 'roundels' motif, the Doctor walks into what appears to be the Tardis console, and Zoe lets out a shriek of terror as a hideous mechanical monstrosity looms up out of the darkness.

On closer examination, it turns out to be some kind of primitive televisual recording device.

Okay, so they are actually on set at the BBC.

This may be during some strike or other, which would kind of limit things, but it would be much more fun if they end up encountering the actors that play them. (The Doctor's comment on first seeing Patrick Troughton: _"Is he supposed to be me? He's much too short! Although I must say… he's rather a handsome fellow, don't you think?"_ )

They wander around this mystifying place and gradually work out what's what. _("But why would anyone want to make a televisual entertainment about ordinary people like us?"_ asks Zoe.) My knowledge of this kind of working environment is severely limited, not to say non-existent, and I don't know if I'm allowed to use real people. Research will be needed for this to work, but for the moment here is just a taster to be going on with.

The lights start to come up as the Doctor is examining the film camera, so he proposes a swift exit. Jamie suggests a swift return to the Tardis, and Zoe agrees.

" _Certainly not! This place is most intriguing."_ The Doctor retorts. They depart the set just as the first early workers arrive. Perhaps they receive morning's greetings from a few of the people that they encounter, while wandering through the increasingly busy building. A trip to the BBC canteen might be amusing.

Inevitably one of them, probably Jamie, becomes separated.

As he tries to find Zoe and the Doctor, he encounters Wendy Padbury, who naturally assumes that he is Fraser Hines. _("Gosh, you're a bit keen today aren't you, Fraser?")_

Meanwhile the Director has discovered the Tardis 'prop' on his set. _"What's that doing there? Don't tell me that someone has changed the script again! Never mind, we'll just have to shoot around it."_ (As I said, I don't know a lot about TV production.)

Anyway, after much ado about nothing, the Tardis crew manage to enlist the aid of their 'real-life' counterparts to get back to their own Tardis.

It would be nice if the Time Travelers have arrived during the filming of an actual broadcast TV episode, and Mr. Troughton is temporarily inconvenienced somehow, so that the Doctor has to step in and play himself. I imagine he would be a bit of a ham. (Alternatively, perhaps this could all happen during one of the 'lost episodes' – and the actors find themselves swapping places with their characters.)

Just a thought.

BUT IT'S MADE OF CARDBOARD!

Sample Narrative

The light from the open Tardis door only penetrated a few feet into the Stygian gloom, and this was rapidly extinguished as the Doctor closed it behind himself.

Zoe was the first to comment in the uncomfortable silence that followed. "When did you last change the batteries on these torches, Doctor?"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Well, err… never actually Zoe, you see, they are ever-lasting batteries."

"Oh Aye, and I suppose you got them from the same place as your _ever-lasting matches_ did ye?"

Zoe stifled an unseemly giggle at Jamie's skepticism, and looked towards where she thought the Doctor was.

"That's hardly fair now, Jamie, is it?" He replied, sounding a little hurt. "It's not my fault if people keep putting them out!

'Besides, this is a totally different principle. We probably just need to shake them up a bit, that's all."

For a moment all that could be heard was muffled tapping and thumping, then a satisfied "Aha!" came from Jamie. "I think I can see something over there!"

The Doctor was still fiddling in concentration with his own torch. "Now don't go wandering… off… just yet, Jamie, let's all stick together for the moment."

He didn't even notice when Zoe also ambled off to investigate something she thought she had seen in the distance.

Suddenly the Doctor's own torch snapped on, perhaps less impressively than he might have hoped, but he grinned contentedly nonetheless. "There we are! Now, Zoe… Jamie… follow me and we can have a look around!

'Although I would suggest that you point the beams at the floor so that we don't trip over anything. They don't appear to go very far."

The Doctor paused for a reply, then enquired quietly, "Jamie?" "Zoe?"

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 _(Later…)_

Jamie was becoming increasingly lost in this maze of drab corridors, and the place was becoming much busier than when they had first arrived.

To his surprise, nobody seemed too concerned that he was dressed in his full Highland regalia, instead greeting him with smiles - or a cheerful "Och Aye, the Noo!" and similar incomprehensible nonsense.

At one point in his increasingly desperate search, he had stumbled into a room containing a group of tall men dressed in rubber outfits that looked suspiciously like…

But no, he was obviously letting his imagination run away with him. It was a great relief when he heard a familiar voice exclaiming "There you are! I've been looking all over the place for you!"

Jamie's smile of greeting froze on his face when he turned to see - Zoe?

Her impish dimples were the same as she grinned at him, but she had somehow found the time to change into _(whatever fashion Miss Padbury favored at the time.)_

Her hair looked a bit different as well. "Aye, well, ye've found me now." He responded, somewhat cautiously.

Zoe punched him playfully on the bicep. "You can save the accent for the set, Fraser! Gosh you're keen today, get in especially early did you?"

"Och, you know I did!" Jamie complained, rubbing his arm in puzzlement.

It didn't hurt of course, but Zoe had never hit him before, not even in jest.


	7. Chapter 7

YOU BROKE OUR SPACESHIP!

Partial Synopsis

The 7th Doctor and Ace, very early in their travels together.

At some point in his many adventures, long before he met Ace, the Doctor encountered the Gigglebugs. (Don't laugh – they are a very proud people!)

The meeting was most inauspicious, as he accidentally stepped on their spaceship during a moment of inattention.

Gigglebugs are daring adventurers, dashing and brave. They have to be.

The enormity of space is daunting enough for human sized species – imagine how big it looks if you are only two inches tall!

Unfortunately, this daring exploratory crew has had to face the fact that they just don't have much chance exploring a universe that is so indecently over-sized - and they are planning to return home when they meet the Doctor.

And witness his destruction of their only means of transport.

Naturally, the Doctor feels honour-bound to make up for his error, and promises to get them home if he is able.

He salvages what he can of their ship, and together they rig the hibernation units with a self-contained power source, so that the Gigglebugs can sleep away the journey.

It fits neatly into an old tobacco tin.

This is fortunate as, at this stage in his never ending journey, the Doctor cannot accurately predict where the Tardis will take him!

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

Now the party can start – Ace is in the house. _(Okay. Tardis.)_ And she is _bored_. She tries a bit of tidying up, just for something to do, but loses interest pretty rapidly. The Doctor only notes this as it seems most uncharacteristic behavior for a teenager.

And then they arrive on a planet whose inhabitants set off a niggling recollection at the back of the Doctor's mind. They are on Giggletron Prime, and he suddenly remembers his long-term 'guests'.

Unfortunately, Ace has thrown them away.

It is now imperative that the fast-return switch operates accurately and efficiently, as the Doctor has also learned something that he was not aware of when he first met the Gigglebugs.

By some strange cosmic coincidence, or inconsiderate quirk of Fate, the proud little people are almost _exactly_ identical to a popular brand of construction toy on Earth, the Tardis' last port of call.

When they find themselves re-animated on Earth, the Gigglebugs will have to survive in a terrifying environment.

Their natural reaction is to look for help wherever they can find it and, as they don't expect any assistance from the giants that rule this world (or their horrifying pets.) They instinctively search for people their own size.

Surprisingly enough they find some.

But they are not much help.

YOU BROKE OUR SPACESHIP!

Sample Narrative

Ace sauntered into the 'odds and ends' room of the Tardis; casually lobbing chocolate raisins into her mouth from a bag she'd found in her room - hoping the Professor would notice her skill so that she could shrug it off as nothing.

She couldn't see him at first, but as a stuffed Dodo flew into the air for the first time in its existence, she heard him muttering behind a giant plastic thruppenny bit.

"Where can they be?

'Under here?

'Aaargh!

'No! No! No! This is a catastrophe!"

Ace found him kneeling on the floor with his head thrust into a wall-cupboard that was rapidly losing its contents.

"What you looking for, Professor?" she enquired, causing him to start and bang his head on an antique 'Space Invaders' arcade game console.

"Owww! Ace! Don't sneak about like that!" he yelled, then returned to his rummaging.

Ace popped a few more raisins, then raised her voice. _"I said, what you looking for, Professor?"_

" _Floo! Pruu! Xlarnee! Baru! Ugwub, Fribble, and Glub!"_ He shouted back, punctuating each exclamation with an object thrown over his shoulder.

Ace stood stock still, totally astonished. Her eyes were wide as saucers and her mouth hung open.

She didn't even notice the chocolate raisin that bounced off her nose.

Was the Professor swearing? Did Time Lords even _have_ naughty words? Or was he having some kind of fit… or worse! A mental breakdown?

Suddenly relief flooded her face. "Oh I get it! You're doing that old kids program!' She frowned, 'It's a bit before my time, but I'm pretty sure you've got the names wrong."

The Doctor finally hauled himself around to face her, looking rather perplexed. "What _are_ you talking about Ace?" he enquired.

"You know,' she gestured, scattering raisins around the room, 'Camberwell Green, that T.V. show for children! Now, how did it go…?"

She was interrupted in her musing, as the Doctor said "Ace, we need to talk."

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Elsewhere.)_

Ugwub had been watching the squad of space soldiers for some time, ignoring the complaints from below.

They were a fine looking bunch of fellows, and remarkably well disciplined! They hadn't even blinked once!

Suddenly, one of the giants ran in and began to move them around, putting some into vehicles or gun emplacements; whilst others were placed on various items of gargantuan furniture around the room.

They were remarkably stoic about it, but then Ugwub supposed it would have been unwise to argue with the giant. Various questions and comments rose from the Gigglebug pyramid supporting him.

"What can you see?"

"What's going on?"

"Are we there yet?"

" _Ow!_ Get your foot out of my face!"

This last came from Fribble, who was directly below Ugwub.

He bent down to shush his grumbling crew, and then returned to his observations.

Ugwub was totally unable restrain an involuntary shriek of absolute terror at what happened next.

Panic rippled through the chaps below, accompanied by extremely nervous enquiries as to the cause of the Captain's distress.

Ugwub was shaking as he told them. "The giant picked up another soldier – and then he pulled his head off!"

Little whimpers of fear rose from the ranks and Pruu, never the bravest of Gigglebugs, fainted outright.

This was most unfortunate, as he was at the bottom of the pyramid.


	8. Chapter 8

AND DICTATOR'S FALL?

Partial Synopsis

The 7th Doctor and Ace. Narrated by Ace

The Doctor and his newest travelling companion become entangled in a revolution, a struggle to liberate some nameless planet from the oppressors.

Initially this is all new and exciting to Ace. She totally identifies with the underdogs and wants to help, convincing the Doctor that they should intervene.

They fight the good fight (with the minimum of violence, natch) and meet the good folks, eventually saving the charismatic revolutionary leader Brucalore from certain death.

In truth, Ace develops something of a crush for Brucalore, although of course she would _die_ before admitting it!

The Doctor has questions and concerns naturally. Ace is still getting to know him, but she has already decided that he needs to chill a bit more, even though he usually seems to know what he's talking about. (This young girl still trusts the Doctor implicitly.)

So, the day is done, the fight is won, and Ace and her 'Professor' ( _"names should be cool - Doctor just isn't cool"_ ) depart for new adventures, never to learn the consequences of their actions.

But it doesn't quite turn out that way for Ace.

Some (subjective) years after leaving the Doctor, she finds herself back on - let's call it Azberon. (I think she had her own means of travel in the 'New Adventures' novels, but it's many years since I read them, so I'm a bit vague on the details.) However, for the purposes of this story - she has her own means of time travel.

She goes by McShane these days, and sees herself as a mercenary for hire – good causes only need apply.

McShane discovers that Brucelore's golden age tarnished pretty quickly. Azberon is even worse off under his dictatorship, than it was under those previously in power. (So what's new?)

After investigating the situation as much as she is able under the oppressive regime, she decides to 'go back and undo', as Brucelore's position is unassailable in the 'present' day.

The Doctor only guest star's in a few of the younger Ace's memories, but he is a constant presence inside McShane's head. Quite a lot of her decisions and actions are in deliberate defiance of how _she_ perceives he would handle any given situation.

The decision to take direct action is, in this instance, her way of telling him where to stick it.

That's the bare bones chronological presentation, but if written this story would hop back and forth between the two Ace's, with the earlier events recalled in response to McShane's conversations with those she meets on post-revolution Azberon.

Really she is unable to believe that Brucalore can have done all the things he is credited with, not the man she so admired all those years ago.

Even as she sets up her sniper nest she is still full of doubts.

AND DICTATOR'S FALL?

Sample Narrative

The Doctor turns back from the balcony and wags a finger at me. "On the contrary Ace, I would say that that is a distinctly _distinctive_ distinction, wouldn't you?"

"Not even if you paid me, Professor!"

He's always saying stupid stuff like that, like he thinks it sounds clever – "If you are going to mix your metaphors, always carry a big stick!" – What does that even mean?

"Oh come on Professor, let's stay for the procession. We did as much as anyone else, why can't we enjoy the celebration?"

I hate the whining edge to my voice, it makes me sound like a teenager. I may only be sixteen, but I'm not a 'teenager'.

"I mean, Brucalore wouldn't even be here if not for us! Why can't we do the fun stuff too?"

He's been fiddling with that bloody umbrella while I talk, but now he looks at me. "You _know_ why, Ace. I don't like the attention.

'If we step into the spotlight, we'll be remembered - maybe even get into the history books.

'No, no, no! Far better to slip away quietly.

'Discretely.

'To remain in the shadows."

I hate it when he makes sense, and I hate that he doesn't care if I'm scared of the dark.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

Been very careful not to go anywhere near myself.

Avoided all the places I remember being.

Didn't even come into the city itself, until anyone who might recognize me would be busy elsewhere.

Blessed with a good memory… for my sins.

There is an untouched Chubba-fruit drink on the table before me. I remember how good Chubba fruit tastes.

I don't want to meet that _little girl_.

Not because of paradox, or temporal confusion; or even the fusion of temporal con artists.

Just don't want to look into her eyes.

Don't want her to look into mine.

Don't want to know what I look like from the outside… Probably smaller.

"The old place is crowded today, isn't it? May I sit?" Woman's voice.

I start to tell her to go away, but on looking up I notice the arm that isn't there, I notice the Star and Cluster for Conspicuous Gallantry, and the brittle pride that supports her. At my nod she seats herself opposite.

My Chubba-fruit now has company.

Don't want any myself, but we don't always want what we get.

"Everyone's here for the celebration, of course. Is that why you're in Sappora?"

"Just passing through."

She begins to roll a smoke-root one-handed. "Then you are a very fortunate woman, my friend, for today will be remembered in history! Today witnesses the birth of a new age for Azberon! Brucalore is a great man, and we come to celebrate his ascendance.

He saved my life you know."

Don't care.

Don't want to know.

Don't want to care. "Really? How so?"

The woman drones on. The way her fingers weave the leaves of her smoke together is fascinating.

The Doctor and I are leaving soon.

The procession will start in a couple of hours.

Then I kill Brucalore.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

The Doctor was always going on about 'The Web of Time'.

Took me ages to realise he was one of the spiders.


	9. Chapter 9

TIMES ORPHANS

Partial Synopsis

The 8th Doctor.

This is when the Doctor gets his first intimation of a devastating war that _might_ be on the temporal horizon. The Tardis, beyond his control, is drawn to a representation of a world that _may_ be Time's attempt to compartmentalize the collateral damage - of events that are yet to occur.

This is a Ballardian dream of apocalypse and catastrophe, inhabited by the lost and confused. A planet that only exists as the temporary repository or, possibly, sanctuary for those lost to time; victims from the fallout of a war that hasn't happened yet. It makes no rational sense, rationality can only be applied to circumstances that exist in a rational universe. No such thing exists, the universe doesn't care what anyone thinks of it. This is the calm at the center of the storm, and it's slightly terrifying.

Picture a desert world, the desiccated remains of a vast ocean planet, its deepest secrets laid bare and evaporating under the glare of relentless heat death. Picture the crystalline majesty of coral continents flash-frozen into morbidity; all colour and life leeched into the encroaching sands, which engulf and eradicate any hope of a return from the edge.

Picture the Doctor, in faded leather and denims, watching the Tardis being eaten by a giant Sand Whale that reminds him of stories he may once have read.

Things don't look good.

TIMES ORPHANS

Sample Narrative

As midnight blipped in the corner of his optics, Casimir watched the dancing horses emerge once more from the expiring shadows: to resume their strange yet poetic rituals. Image intensifiers amplified the hallucinogenic corpse-light of the skeletal coral surrounds; he could see transient firefly reflections brushing their flanks, as they pranced and frolicked in the dying light of the distant apocalypse. He could no longer see it himself. Perhaps this was a blessing, yet Casimir resented the 'horse's' mobility - their total absorption, and the relative solidity of the ground beneath their hooves.

He had been so close!

So close to the promise of sanctuary represented by this land-locked atoll, so jealously guarding the sand-choked mirage of its long lost lagoon; when he had been ambushed by oblivion.

He had been hunted for so long across the desolation, by his moronic yet implacable adversary, that his own body had begun to consume itself from the inside, and his brain had eventually rebelled against the relentless energy drain.

A black hammer had risen from the depths of his cerebral cortex and _slammed_ into the interior surfaces of his skull, assaulting his eyes from the inside.

Deafening him with a sound like his own spine snapping.

When he regained consciousness, Casimir found himself face down in the sand, with his imbecile nemesis snuggled beneath his chest; chuckling and burbling away in anticipation of apotheosis.

How long ago had that been?

Long enough for his core body temperature to drop beyond the daytime's ability to restore it, long enough for him to begin to anthromorphosise the bomb, which was now his only companion.

Not long enough to give in. He hadn't moved, so it hadn't exploded.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

Casimir had been alone with the hunter-killer mine for so long, that it took some time for him to realize that this was not merely the continuation of some internal dialogue. He moved his head ever so slightly in the direction of this new voice and saw - in the harsh interpretation of his light enhancers - a gaunt and disheveled scarecrow of a man squatting beside him.

He was gazing at the atoll, and its elegant occupants, in unashamed admiration.

"Who the hell are you?" Casimir croaked, "How did you get here? _Why_ are you here?"

The stranger didn't appear to hear him at first, instead looking down at the tattered remnants still clinging to his feet.

"I walked. I'm chasing the whale that ate my transport."

The statement was so calm and matter of fact that Casimir found himself replying. "You won't find it here, the sand isn't deep enough near any of the atolls or archipelagos.

'Tell me, what do you see when you watch the Dancers?"

"Not very much in this light, just enough to find them beautiful."

Casimir belatedly noticed that the man was wearing no eye protection, and wondered how he had not gone blind in the daylight.

Then he realized that he should warn him about something. "You may not want to get too close to me. I'm lying on a bomb."

The stranger hardly reacted, just regarded Casimir curiously. "That seems rather a foolish thing to do, if you don't mind the observation."

Casimir almost laughed. "It's not by choice friend, they're sneaky little beggars".

He tried again. "Who are you? What's your name?"

"Does it matter?" asked the scarecrow, 'It seems to me that… When we give something a name, we think that we know what it _is_.

'I'm not sure that I know what anything is in this place.

'But if it helps, you can call me The Doctor."

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

He found the blind pilot crucified on the crudely resurrected remains of a Mark Nine Fractaline ejection seat, at the center of the oddly deliberate debris field.

Despite the fact that fragments of vessels from many disparate species and time-zones were represented, the Doctor felt that he could almost sense a coherent pattern here. He just couldn't bring it into focus.

In his near delusional state, he hadn't noticed the woman at first.

It was only as he lifted a smaller item of wreckage, for closer examination, that he sensed movement.

He looked up to find himself transfixed by stark white accusation and froze; but then the sightless searchlights passed through him to follow some shifting rubble that he had dislodged.

The noise had clearly attracted her attention, but she most certainly didn't see him.

He remained frozen and silent, studying her predicament carefully, before venturing to offer assistance.

The ejection seat was mounted on a precarious looking pile of mismatched wreckage. It canted forward at an angle that would have pitched the woman into the sand below; had she not been fixed at the wrists to a crossbar attached to the back of the seat. Whatever insane junkyard Picasso had included her in this bizarre sculpture had either ignored - or been unaware of - the purpose of the crash-webbing hanging down, at the same angle as her now quiescent head.

He hoped that she had not actually been nailed to the crossbar – which he could now make out as a weapons pylon from an earlier era – but from down here he could not make out enough detail.

She only stirred slightly as he cleared his throat quietly: an attempt to establish authority over his ill-used vocal cords, but her head sprang around in alarm at his gentle "Hello?"

"You spoke!" she rasped in astonishment, her blind eyes unerringly fixing down on his own.

"Well… Yes… I find it helps enormously when one is trying to communicate."

He began a careful ascent, noting that the pile was sturdier that it looked. "I'm coming up to you, please don't be frightened. I only want to help."

Her voice sounded like the wind whispering through the desiccated coral reefs he had passed earlier, still crying out for the return of lost oceans. "The others never spoke.' She said. 'They just put pictures in my head, so that I knew that they wanted me to fly them away from here. But they took away my eyes."

As he climbed closer, the Doctor told her that he didn't understand. "I can tell that you are unable to see, but your eyes are still there - do you mean that they blinded you? Who?"

The woman shook her head weakly, and sunlight glinted on traceries and filaments just visible beneath the short stubble of her hair.

"My helmet,' she explained. 'They must have removed my helmet when they found me. Whenever that was…

'Who were they? They were loneliness and loss, confusion and despair: they were desperate hope that somehow I could be the one to take them home.

'They were very different.

'I didn't really understand them…"


	10. Chapter 10

DISCONTINUITY INTRUSION

Partial Synopsis

The 5th Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa, and Adric.

Arriving on a beautiful jewel of a planet, the Tardis crew are oblivious to the fact they are under observation, by iterations of an intelligence far removed from their own.

It has no name, it just is. It has no ill intentions, but a limitless curiosity.

There is some concern among his companions, about the brief dizzy spell that the Doctor experiences on leaving the Tardis, but he assures them that it's nothing to worry about.

The paradisal nature of the planet soothes them into a holiday mood, and Adric and Nyssa are soon engrossed in studying the profusion of exotic plants - with the Doctor in 'Kindly Uncle' mode happily indulging them.

Even Tegan is in good spirits, content to just relax and soak up the rays of an alien sun, and breath in the scents of the alien blossoms.

But as they explore, they are in turn being explored.

Having recovered from the loss of part of itself, something it has never experienced before, the intelligence examines them with renewed interest.

They are similar to the New Life that arrived here not long ago, so it is extremely careful not to damage them in any way.

It has learnt from bitter experience that, unlike the life evolved in its own biosphere, New Life ceases to function when studied.

For reasons beyond its understanding, New Life will not continue, no matter how accurately and precisely it is reassembled.

At this point, the Time Travelers meet this 'New Life'.

Colonists newly arrived on the planet, they accept the Doctors congratulations on their choice of a new home with caution. They had been of a similar opinion until a clutch of bizarre deaths struck the colony.

For a change the Doctor is not immediately accused of being responsible, and his offer of assistance gratefully accepted.

The bodies are stored on the colony ship - five in total. The Doctor soon see's why the colonists cannot bring themselves to bury them.

"If it wasn't for the fact that he is dead, I would say that Mr. Kilminster here is the most perfect physical specimen of humanity that I have ever seen."

"There's more Doctor. Before he died, Jackson had Hendricks Syndrome, and as you can see…"

"Indeed. How very peculiar."

DISCONTINUITY INTRUSION

Sample Narrative

She first became aware of the discontinuity intrusion several nanoseconds before it occurred, and so sent an iteration to bear witness.

It was a most unusual event.

The location was no different from any other part of herself, beyond the variations in ephemeral life and insignificant atmospheric conditions, but something unprecedented was taking place.

Something huge beyond experience was attempting to break through the walls of reality as she understood it, and it was evident from the swarms of excited molecules, that reality was protesting strongly in the auditory range. She could sense hints of a titanic struggle just beyond the limits of perception, she could taste eternity on the tip of her awareness, and she wept tears of unfulfilled potential, for this must surely shatter her very existence.

And then it was there, and it was…

A surprise.

It was a made-thing. A small blue made-thing, that could not possibly contain that which she knew it contained, yet its presence was undeniable.

She became closer to the object and tasted that presence, tendrils of curiosity probing its exterior dimensions. It was there and yet not there, a delicious _impossibility_ that promised answers to questions that had not yet occurred to her, and so her excitement over-rode her caution. She got too close.

She got much too close.

When a gap in reality opened beneath her she was sucked in. It happened so fast.

So very, very fast.

She ceased to be, and in the real world the rest of herself screamed.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later)_

"Hey!" Tegan's involuntary protest was indignant and tinged with panic. "That's me! And I'm naked!"

The Doctor spoke in a tone that was evidently intended to be reassuring. "Well, obviously it isn't you, Tegan. This is clearly an attempt at communication…"

"But why does she have to look like _me_?"

"I don't know. Yet. But if it's any comfort this representation probably isn't even a 'she' as we understand things.

If it has any similarity to a Tardis at all, then it is a mathematical construct."

"I don't care what it is, tell it to put some clothes on!" Tegan folded her arms across her chest and hugged herself tightly, glancing around nervously and feeling deeply vulnerable.

People were staring at _her_ naked body.

 _Adric_ was staring at her naked body, for God's Sake!

This was perhaps a little unfair to Adric who, although he had indeed been staring at this fascinating apparition, had been doing so with a more innocent curiosity than Tegan's embarrassment might have allowed for.

So far it hadn't done very much, it was just looking around at everyone with a vaguely puzzled frown creasing its forehead.

He removed his tunic with a flourish and, ignoring the Doctors "Don't get too close Adric!" offered it to this facsimile of Tegan.

It did not appear to understand what was expected of it, and Adric was worried how Tegan might react if he attempted to cloth it himself.

He shot an appealing glance towards Nyssa.


	11. Chapter 11

A CLEAN SLATE

Partial Synopsis

The 1st Doctor. Alternative Reality.

 _What if the Doctor never left Gallifrey?_

 _It's seems such an obvious question that it must have been done, or at the very least suggested before. However, I've never seen, heard, or read it myself so at the risk of repeating somebody else…_

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

The Doctor's attempt to flee the constraints of Gallifrey fails. In _this reality_ his increasing disaffection has been noticed, and certain parties have become concerned.

On this occasion Susan follows him into the Time Capsule not to accompany him, but to persuade him to change his mind. When she is unable to do so the Chancellery Guard steps in and detains him.

 _Somewhere, some-when, something happens and the Doctor is not there to prevent it._ (To abide by competition rules no actual adversaries can appear in these 'instances', they would either be suggested by intimation, or completely new situations invented.)

The High Council don't want to punish the Doctor, they _just_ want to 'rehabilitate' him. However, since he is still imprisoned, he can see little effective difference, it is purely a matter of semantics.

Interminable 'discussions' follow, but the Doctor is adamant in his views… the Time Lords obdurate in theirs. At best a compromise is a solution that leaves both parties unsatisfied.

The Doctor will not compromise.

 _Somewhere, some-when, something happens and the Doctor is not there to help._

Time passes.

An old friend come to visit the Doctor in his incarceration, the only Time Lord he knows of to affect facial hair. He derides the Doctor's own affectations, and tries to convince him to return to the fold.

They could work together again, they could learn so much!

The Doctor wonders what use knowledge is if one does not act upon it.

 _Once upon a time there WAS NOT a funny little man, in a funny little hat, who lived in a little blue box. And civilizations fell._

Years later.

Susan and the Doctor's friend are increasingly worried by his intransigence, and the High Council's probable reaction to it.

The 'Old Man' is becoming ever more frustrated and bitter in his confinement, and many important officials are beginning to express doubts about his sanity.

 _Earth. London. 1963. Two teachers exchange polite nods as they pass in one of corridors of Coal Hill School. The man would like to engage the woman in conversation, but can think of no reason to do so._

The Doctor is on Trial.

He is guilty of nothing more than dangerous thoughts, but sentenced to forced regeneration nonetheless.

The High Councils regrets this necessity, but his aberration is too severe to be 'cured' by more conventional means. It is done, and the Doctor is delivered into Susan's care by his bearded friend.

She is startled to find herself in charge of a baby.

Surely such a radical regeneration would entirely wipe out the Doctor's memory, effectively destroying him?

She is assured that the Doctor still exists as potential, but the High Council would appreciate it if she could guide him onto a different path, if she is still willing to take on the responsibility.

And maybe she does – _but that's a different story…_

A CLEAN SLATE

Sample Narrative

The old man spins round in alarm, looking almost like a Taffleshrew cornered whilst stealing sweet treats from the candy vault.

"Susan!" he gasps, patting both sides of his chest alternately, 'what are you doing here, my child? I told you that you couldn't come!"

She is no relation as far as she knows, it is simply a game that has become habit over many years, but her love for him is genuine. "I can't let you go Grandfather!"

He misunderstands. "Hush now child, we have been through all this, I cannot take you with me. Regardless of the possible dangers, what of your studies?

'If I take you away with me now, you may never reach ascendance, never receive the Imprimatur. Never become a Time Lady!"

"Then allow me to say that _we_ can't let you go Doctor." Interjects a stern voice. Standing just inside the time capsule's doorway is a squad of Chancellery Guards.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Much Later…)_

She advances into the room cautiously, glancing around in trepidation.

"Is he here?" she asks.

Dark eyes glinting, he summons over a hover-gurney she had failed to notice, indicating it with a tilt of his head.

Stepping closer she finds herself looking into a pair of uncomprehending eyes, that gaze back at her full of hunger and wonder at this strange new world. Startled, she backs away, shooting a horrified look towards the Doctor's so-called friend.

"This can't be right! That can't be the Doctor? The High Council have killed him!" Close to tears she returns to the gurney and studies the tiny baby nestled in its fields. "How could they do this?"

He steps closer himself and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Believe me my dear, I never expected them to go this far, I argued with all the intelligence at my disposal against this course of action, and I would not consider it vanity to admit that I do not fall short in that respect.

'They wouldn't listen.

'They are fearful old men and women, so set in their ways that any form of originality is a threat to them.

'The Doctor is nothing if not original."

"Is?' She looks up hopefully, grasping at straws, 'you mean the Doctor isn't gone? How can that be? Look at him!"

She indicates the child and is once more surprised, as a tiny fist grips one of her fingers, refusing to let go. Even when she tugs the baby just laughs, enjoying this new game.

The hawk-faced Time Lord smiles with glittering eyes, but a frown still creases his forehead, and his lips are somber. "I honestly don't know my dear. Apparently the Doctor is still in there somewhere, but now only exists as a _potential_ person.

'It is the High Council's wish that you guide him onto a more acceptable path."

He pauses and looks deeply into her eyes, allowing some of his concern to show for the first time. "You don't have to do this, you know?

He can be placed with the Keepers of the Looms. _You_ can return to your training, and eventually achieve Ascension.

You may never become a Time Lady if you accept this duty."

"That doesn't matter to me, the Doctor is more important."

Susanadvoratrelundar's hearts leap, as the baby gifts her with a toothless smile.


	12. Chapter 12

Competition Entry 21 Synopsis .uk

HOW MANY EINSTEINS?

Partial Synopsis

The 1st Doctor. (A younger Hartnell than we know, late 30's/mid 40's to our eyes.)

 _Note: I am basing this on a recollection of mentions of the Doctor being sent on authorized observation missions before he eventually fled Gallifrey, possibly in the novels. If this is incorrect I apologize for the blind alley I'm about to head up!_

Munich, 1883. A young boy falls and scrapes his knee.

He is unsure whether he has hurt himself, but begins to cry when he sees his mother's distress.

A passing doctor offers assistance, calming the lad while cleaning the graze with medicinal alcohol from his bag. A quick dab of unguent and a neatly applied dressing later and all is well.

As the grateful mother leads her child away the doctor calls after her. "It may be as well to keep the boy indoors for a while, Frau Einstein, just until the scab forms."

It is all that he can do within the non-interference guidelines of his people, the Doctor hopes it is enough.

It wasn't really interference after all, he was just making doubly sure that the reality he knew followed its correct course. Because due to circumstances that he doesn't fully understand yet, he has recently returned from a reality where Albert Einstein died from an illness brought on by infection at the age of four.

The Doctor had first started lying to his superiors on returning from that particular mission.

He made no mention of his unexpected side-trip in his report, just notes on his observations of his chosen planet of study – Earth. He doesn't falsify anything, just neglects to mention certain elements.

His conclusions about his trip to the home of Humanity in the 23rd Century are well received, and as a reward he is permitted to visit Munich in 1883 to observe a performance by a favorite composer. This is considered a reasonable request, as his supervisors have big plans for their most promising pupil.

A decent time later, after the Doctor has had time to fully record his observations - and pen a remarkably concise and insightful document that impresses all who read it - he is called before the High Council. To his relief they have not discovered his subterfuge but, on the recommendation of his tutors, would like to invite the Doctor to visit 'The Lost Quadrant'.

Purely as an observer, naturally, but they are curious to learn more about this neglected sector of the universe – and Gallifrey's records say little about it.

There is a hidden deviousness to the suggestion.

Over time the odd alien ship has been observed entering this region, yet nothing ever comes out. The Doctor, whilst young and full of promise, is perhaps more expendable than, say, one of _them_.

For his part the Doctor leaps at the chance to explore one of the last few unknowns.

What he finds is a perpetual war.

Try as he may he cannot discern its origins or purpose, the aims and objectives of the species involved are - beyond the basic drive for survival - a mystery.

War is a state of being, it is life.

The Doctor desperately wants to help, but this time he wants to honor the non-interference policy if at all possible.

He settles for trying to influence key individuals discretely, all the while becoming increasingly frustrated by the fetters of Time Lord Law.

 _Note: Life expectancy is short here. Even as a young Time Lord the Doctor is practically a fossil in this place._

HOW MANY EINSTEINS?

Sample Narrative

"Abregon, my dear boy, you don't have to do this you know?"

Abregon flinched at the patronizing air that he misheard in the old man's voice, but held fast to his intent, digging the muzzle of his vaper into the ancient imposter's throat. He only hesitated when he met the calm and steady gaze that seemed to cleave into his soul, a look of such acceptance and forgiveness as he had never before beheld.

"Listen to me young man,' the Doctor hissed, "I cannot help you if you hold to this purpose! You are basing your conclusions on inaccurate information! Stand fast and trust me, I really do want to help you!"

Abregon cast a look around but could see no alternatives. He glared once more at the old man, "I choose to die here, false prophet, but I will send you along first to prepare my way!

'I like my wantons golden and my refreshments frosted, you will remember that, won't you?"

The Doctor cast a glare of furious negation around the assembled watchmen as they pawed for their weapons, ignoring the discomfort of the muzzle at his throat. "How old are you my boy?" he asked conversationally, "Do you even know what a wanton is? Hmmm?"

Abregon continued to shoot defiance at the watchmen through his eyes, daring them to test his resolve.

"I have seen fourteen summers, Old Man! By any measure you have no right to call me a child, and by my own measure I consider you to be a decrepit fool!"

The Doctor stretched his neck as if attempting to adjust the fit of an uncomfortable neckerchief. "Tell me, Abregon, have you ever heard of Einstein?"

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

They stood on the edge of the graveyard, a graveyard that spanned an entire planet.

The Doctor gestured grandiosely towards the serried ranks of memorial markers. "Tell me my boy, what is the greatest cause of death for your people, other than this war?"

Abregon huffed petulantly. "You ridicule me old man, everyone knows that the Wasting kills more than the war ever could!"

The Doctor glanced down at the boy, this child with the power of life and death over billions. "But what if one of those buried here was a genius?

'What if they could have found a cure for the Wasting?

'Indeed, what if they had already found that cure, but their lives were cut short before they could pass on that knowledge, by this perpetual conflict? What then?"

Abregon sniffed disdainfully. "You disguise fantasy as wisdom, Relic. People die. War is eternal."

The Doctor tucked his chin, gazing thoughtfully into his own past. "I have done things, Abregon, things that my own people would not approve of.

'I have seen a timeline where Einstein never existed, this man of whom you know nothing, from a world that you have never heard of.

'But I made a decision, possibly the highest crime that one of my people can ever commit. I refused to accept that reality, so in ours I ensured that Einstein lived to become what he was supposed to be."

Abregon followed his gaze across the planet-wide memorial to lost potential, and found himself deeply disturbed by the old man's following words.

"Look at all this Abregon. Einstein was one in a million. Just how many millions have your people buried on this desolate sphere, hmm?

'How many Einstein's?


	13. Chapter 13

Competition Entry 18 Synopsis .uk

HARK, HARK, THE DOGS DO BARK

Or THIS TOXIC TATTERDEMALION

Partial Synopsis

The 6th Doctor and Peri. (Shortly after his regeneration, back when he was a nutjob.)

This is a pseudo-historical, a chance to get Peri out of those hideously unflattering outfits and into a pretty velvet gown. There is no 'real' history involved, just a made up place that might possibly resemble something historical without the need to do any research. (Historian? Moi?) Oh yes, better put it on a different planet too, just to cover all the bases.

The basic premise is very simple – Sixey and Peri are having an argument (the originality!) when the Tardis materializes on a planet similar to some period in Earth history. It doesn't really matter when, just so long as they have kings and queens and knights. (And Fools.) After this polite discussion about sartorial priorities they embark on the adventure.

The actual storyline is, I'm afraid, pretty much a means to an end. I'll write whatever situations will allow me to facilitate the more important (to me) aspect of interpersonal relationships between the protagonists. So, bearing in mind that this can change at any time if required, here is a very brief outline of what could possibly happen. (Maybe.)

They arrive in the middle of some political situation between rival fiefdoms. They get split up. Peri suddenly finds herself the most attractive woman on this Pox laden planet, and has to deal with hordes of ardent suiters. This might be okay if they looked like the guys from Miami Vice, but is none too pleasant when they all have spots and bad breath. ("But I bathes regular, My Lady! Every year, without fail, I takes a bath whether I needs one or not!")

The Doctor naturally tries to take command of his own situation – he has been captured and accused of Nigromancy. He isn't entirely sure what that is, but he has his suspicions.

Fortunately the Queen of the land takes a fancy to him, and adopts him as a pet. (He is most amusing, after all.) _Unfortunately_ her husband, the King, is none too pleased about this.

Even more unfortunately the Doctor's scrambled neurons convince him that is in Love (with a capital L!) with the Queen.

Could throw in a few political plots and Machiavellian machinations and stuff like that to make it a bit more dramatic, but the basic story remains very simple.

Peri has to decide whether or not she is going to attempt to rescue this person that she doesn't actually like very much anymore.

She is seriously tempted to just let him go hang, but considering that this will leave her stuck on a planet full of slobbering ignorant Neanderthals (not so dissimilar to High School), she decides that maybe the Doctor rescue is her best option.

So, given that she now has a veritable army of distinctly sweaty and smelly young boys at her disposal, (again, not so dissimilar to High School), Peri comes up with a cunning plan.

HARK, HARK, THE DOGS DO BARK

Or THIS TOXIC TATTERDEMALION

Sample Narrative

The Doctor turned on her suddenly, fuming with incandescent rage. "My dear Miss Brown, I do not, as you so succinctly put it, know everything! I am acutely aware that there is a very great deal that I do not, in fact, know!

'Moreover, it is extremely likely that I have forgotten more than your tiny little mayfly mind can even begin to comprehend!"

He paused for breath, visibly trying to calm himself, and running through what he had just said as if unsure what he had been talking about.

"Oh don't over-react, Doctor, that was ages ago… and it was just a passing comment!

'And don't change the subject!' Peri faced up to him bravely, 'all I asked was why your coat has to be so hideous!"

She checked out routes of evasion just in case her repetition set him off again.

"How can you possibly make value judgements on _my_ choice of apparel, dressed as you are!" the Doctor erupted back at her.

Peri glanced with distaste at the revolting pink monstrosity that was attempting to suffocate her pulchritude.

"I don't dress like this by choice Doctor! I don't think the Tardis likes me!"

She had just begun attempting to adjust her fittings when the Tardis suddenly gave a moan of arrival.

"What have you done? What did you touch?" bellowed the Doctor, as he leapt frantically towards the console.

"Me?' shrieked Peri, scooting rapidly to the opposite side, half convinced that he was about to attack her again. 'What could I have done? My hands are otherwise engaged!"

The Doctor gave her a suspicious glance, but given the placement and desperate firmness of her grip, he was unable to dispute her claim.

This irritated him intensely.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

"This toxic tatterdemalion vexes me sore!

'Have I not made this known in sufficient measure?

'Have I not expressed my ire on numerous occasions?" Quagron was most displeased.

Egram cowered before him, feeling an uncomfortable urge to urinate. "I cannot gainsay you, My Lord. Your displeasure is evident even unto your lowliest of servants, such as myself.

'But, if it be not too bold an observation, you mask your desires far too well for one such as I to act upon them."

Quagron stirred suspiciously in his throne. "You would have me state my case plain?"

He glanced sharply around the empty hall. 'You shall not have it so, but I would ask you this… come closer…'

He gestured as one to a recalcitrant child, then leaned down and whispered. 'Why does he still breathe?"

Egram panicked.

"He has the protection of your Lady, my Sire! You know how she dotes upon her new pet, and he is never far from her side!"

"Aha! Then do you suggest that I vent my righteous wrath on this interloper in the name of… well, whatever name seems suitable to purpose?"

"Er… No, Sire. That was not my intention. I merely wished to council against ill-considered action.

'This 'Doctor' is like a love-struck puppy in her presence. No impropriety is possible with this man.

'Indeed, it is my firm belief that the fool would expire, in a paroxysm of ecstasy, if Our Lady so much as tickled his tummy!"


	14. Chapter 14

Competition Entry 23 Synopsis .uk

TEGAN

Partial Synopsis

Tegan Jovanka. (The 8th Doctor appears briefly at the end.)

She is already dying from a slow yet physically painless cancer that is eating her brain, so Tegan is more angry than frightened when she finds the assassin waiting in her apartment.

However, the evil looking hand cannon he wields does encourage caution, so she listens to what he has to say.

His services have been engaged, by parties that shall remain anonymous, to 'encourage' Tegan to answer a few questions.

Or to kill her if she does not comply.

Either way, they believe that there will be some attempt at intervention, they suspect the existence of 'someone' that may try to save her.

Tegan is the bait in their trap.

Actually, while all that he tells her is based on true circumstances, the assassin, Mr. Gage, is here to _protect_ Tegan for his own reasons.

Seeing that his scare tactics fail to have much effect, he begins to explain part of his own hopes for her assistance – when two _genuine_ representatives of his erstwhile employers arrive. Gage casually kills them both by giving them instant brain embolisms. For the first time Tegan realizes that Gage is more than just your everyday psychopath.

The 'chase sequence' phase of the story starts. Gage forces Tegan into his car and goes into escape and evasion mode, explaining further what 'they' want of her - and what he hopes to get from her - painting it as a desire to save her life.

For her own part Tegan continues to ridicule the possibility of time travel, and denies all knowledge of this person that Gage refers to as the Doctor.

There are further attempts on Tegan's life, the car chases and even helicopter pursuits become more intense.

Tegan hasn't had this much fun in ages.

Her failure to co-operate leaves Gage no alternative but to explain his true motives. Tegan has now seen many examples of his ability to manipulate matter at the molecular level, particular when it comes to fragile organic matter.

It should come as no surprise to one with her experiences _("What experiences?")_ that he is no ordinary human.

And there is something in her head that he would very much like to have.

" _You want to melt my brain? Like those poor men?"_

" _Those 'poor men' wanted to kill you. I do not."_

Gage goes on to assure her that he can use his abilities with surgical precision as well as blunt force. He can excise her 'cancer' and save her life, but only with her permission and compliance. Otherwise the trauma will not only kill _her_ , but that which he seeks.

It is important to note that Tegan is at no time presented as a victim here. She has come to terms with death and does not fear his scythe. She doesn't allow Gage to intimidate her, giving as good as she gets, at least verbally.

An element of Stockholm syndrome may have emerged in the relationship, but Tegan doesn't trust 'Gage', whoever or whatever he is, in the slightest. She considers him a monster and doesn't believe for one moment that his motives are as altruistic as he claims.

She chooses to embrace death, when that appears to be the only way to foil Gage's plans.

This tale is being told to the Doctor, who has not identified himself, by Gage as they stand under some trees watching Tegan's funeral from a distance. (More in sample text.)

TEGAN

Sample Narrative

 _(Description of location and characters here.)_

"I'm afraid that I must decline your kind offer, Mr. Mannheim."

The immaculately dressed assassin turned away from studying the painting, reluctantly, and strode back towards the 'Australian'. Stepping around the barrier of Mannheim's desk, Mr. Gage brought himself smartly to attention and snapped off a salute.

Mannheim, who had already been reaching for a concealed pistol, laughed at Gage as he brought it into the open. "You Pommie ponce! Do you seriously expect a salute to save you? Nobody says 'no' to us!"

Gage relaxed into an 'at ease' stance. "It's traditional, old chap. For those about to die, and all that."

Gage didn't even flinch as Mannheim brought the weapon to bear, then suddenly screamed in agony and raised both hands to his head, flinging the pistol skywards.

The assassin caught it as it fell, his cold gaze fixed on the writhing ball of pain before him, tucking the gun into a pocket without thought. "Usually I would make this quick, my old cucumber, but I'm afraid you have rather pissed me off."

 _(Gage indulges himself in an explanation of his unique abilities then departs.)_

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

Tegan chuckled wryly to herself as she let herself into her apartment.

It had been a good evening, with some good mates, but she hadn't really been able to keep up with 'the youngsters'.

She had done her best, of course, but more than a few glasses of wine had surreptitiously been fed to the pot-plants.

"I'll bet they are quite tipsy now,' Tegan mused, none too steady herself as she chased the key around the lock, 'but when did I start thinking of myself as being Old?"

As she scrabbled for the light-switch beside the door to the lounge, somebody said "Allow me, my dear," and turned on the standard lamp beside her favorite recliner.

"Who the _Hell_ are you?" Tegan demanded, suddenly stone cold sober.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Much Later…)_

Standing in the shade of the ( _Australian trees,_ ) two men watched the funeral quietly, their seeming ease shadowed by wariness.

"That's a very interesting story, Mr. Gage,' said the taller, 'but I don't understand why you told it to me, or indeed, why you sought me out and introduced yourself."

Gage looked up at the other, who was studiously ignoring him to concentrate on the distant proceedings, and took the opportunity to examine his handsome profile more closely.

"I thought that perhaps you were a friend of the deceased, someone that I have been hoping to meet. You look as out of place here as I would have expected, and those flowers… I have never seen flowers like that before."

The taller man glanced down at the wreath as if he had forgotten that he held it.

"Ms. Jovanka and I never met.' He said regretfully, 'I am here on behalf of someone who is unable to attend. I knew that he would want me to pay his respects."

"And the flowers?"

"From a private collection, not yet available for purchase. I wanted to give her something special."

Seeming to arrive at a decision, Gage reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and handed the sad stranger a business card. "If you're ever in these parts again, and find yourself in need of my services."

Then he gave a polite nod and walked away.

The Doctor looked down at the card.

There was nothing written on it.


	15. Chapter 15

Competition Entry 23 Synopsis .uk

TEGAN

Partial Synopsis

Tegan Jovanka. (The 8th Doctor appears briefly at the end.)

She is already dying from a slow yet physically painless cancer that is eating her brain, so Tegan is more angry than frightened when she finds the assassin waiting in her apartment.

However, the evil looking hand cannon he wields does encourage caution, so she listens to what he has to say.

His services have been engaged, by parties that shall remain anonymous, to 'encourage' Tegan to answer a few questions.

Or to kill her if she does not comply.

Either way, they believe that there will be some attempt at intervention, they suspect the existence of 'someone' that may try to save her.

Tegan is the bait in their trap.

Actually, while all that he tells her is based on true circumstances, the assassin, Mr. Gage, is here to _protect_ Tegan for his own reasons.

Seeing that his scare tactics fail to have much effect, he begins to explain part of his own hopes for her assistance – when two _genuine_ representatives of his erstwhile employers arrive. Gage casually kills them both by giving them instant brain embolisms. For the first time Tegan realizes that Gage is more than just your everyday psychopath.

The 'chase sequence' phase of the story starts. Gage forces Tegan into his car and goes into escape and evasion mode, explaining further what 'they' want of her - and what he hopes to get from her - painting it as a desire to save her life.

For her own part Tegan continues to ridicule the possibility of time travel, and denies all knowledge of this person that Gage refers to as the Doctor.

There are further attempts on Tegan's life, the car chases and even helicopter pursuits become more intense.

Tegan hasn't had this much fun in ages.

Her failure to co-operate leaves Gage no alternative but to explain his true motives. Tegan has now seen many examples of his ability to manipulate matter at the molecular level, particular when it comes to fragile organic matter.

It should come as no surprise to one with her experiences _("What experiences?")_ that he is no ordinary human.

And there is something in her head that he would very much like to have.

" _You want to melt my brain? Like those poor men?"_

" _Those 'poor men' wanted to kill you. I do not."_

Gage goes on to assure her that he can use his abilities with surgical precision as well as blunt force. He can excise her 'cancer' and save her life, but only with her permission and compliance. Otherwise the trauma will not only kill _her_ , but that which he seeks.

It is important to note that Tegan is at no time presented as a victim here. She has come to terms with death and does not fear his scythe. She doesn't allow Gage to intimidate her, giving as good as she gets, at least verbally.

An element of Stockholm syndrome may have emerged in the relationship, but Tegan doesn't trust 'Gage', whoever or whatever he is, in the slightest. She considers him a monster and doesn't believe for one moment that his motives are as altruistic as he claims.

She chooses to embrace death, when that appears to be the only way to foil Gage's plans.

This tale is being told to the Doctor, who has not identified himself, by Gage as they stand under some trees watching Tegan's funeral from a distance. (More in sample text.)

TEGAN

Sample Narrative

 _(Description of location and characters here.)_

"I'm afraid that I must decline your kind offer, Mr. Mannheim."

The immaculately dressed assassin turned away from studying the painting, reluctantly, and strode back towards the 'Australian'. Stepping around the barrier of Mannheim's desk, Mr. Gage brought himself smartly to attention and snapped off a salute.

Mannheim, who had already been reaching for a concealed pistol, laughed at Gage as he brought it into the open. "You Pommie ponce! Do you seriously expect a salute to save you? Nobody says 'no' to us!"

Gage relaxed into an 'at ease' stance. "It's traditional, old chap. For those about to die, and all that."

Gage didn't even flinch as Mannheim brought the weapon to bear, then suddenly screamed in agony and raised both hands to his head, flinging the pistol skywards.

The assassin caught it as it fell, his cold gaze fixed on the writhing ball of pain before him, tucking the gun into a pocket without thought. "Usually I would make this quick, my old cucumber, but I'm afraid you have rather pissed me off."

 _(Gage indulges himself in an explanation of his unique abilities then departs.)_

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

Tegan chuckled wryly to herself as she let herself into her apartment.

It had been a good evening, with some good mates, but she hadn't really been able to keep up with 'the youngsters'.

She had done her best, of course, but more than a few glasses of wine had surreptitiously been fed to the pot-plants.

"I'll bet they are quite tipsy now,' Tegan mused, none too steady herself as she chased the key around the lock, 'but when did I start thinking of myself as being Old?"

As she scrabbled for the light-switch beside the door to the lounge, somebody said "Allow me, my dear," and turned on the standard lamp beside her favorite recliner.

"Who the _Hell_ are you?" Tegan demanded, suddenly stone cold sober.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Much Later…)_

Standing in the shade of the ( _Australian trees,_ ) two men watched the funeral quietly, their seeming ease shadowed by wariness.

"That's a very interesting story, Mr. Gage,' said the taller, 'but I don't understand why you told it to me, or indeed, why you sought me out and introduced yourself."

Gage looked up at the other, who was studiously ignoring him to concentrate on the distant proceedings, and took the opportunity to examine his handsome profile more closely.

"I thought that perhaps you were a friend of the deceased, someone that I have been hoping to meet. You look as out of place here as I would have expected, and those flowers… I have never seen flowers like that before."

The taller man glanced down at the wreath as if he had forgotten that he held it.

"Ms. Jovanka and I never met.' He said regretfully, 'I am here on behalf of someone who is unable to attend. I knew that he would want me to pay his respects."

"And the flowers?"

"From a private collection, not yet available for purchase. I wanted to give her something special."

Seeming to arrive at a decision, Gage reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and handed the sad stranger a business card. "If you're ever in these parts again, and find yourself in need of my services."

Then he gave a polite nod and walked away.

The Doctor looked down at the card.

There was nothing written on it.


	16. Chapter 16

Competition Entry 13 Synopsis .uk

JO

Partial Synopsis

The 3rd Doctor, Jo, the Brigadier and U.N.I.T.

I could get all poncey and politically correct here and say that this is an attempt to address the institutional sexism of the 70's, but really it's about Jon Pertwee, (my Doctor,) and Jo Grant, (my first crush!)

Just a bit of self-indulgent fun. No apologies!

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

Things are unusually quiet at U.N.I.T. headquarters today.

Despite Mike Yates' over-protective (but polite) objections, the Brigadier has dispatched Miss Grant to a relatively nearby Regular Army base, to chivvy up some much over-due re-supplies.

Given the status of her Uncle with the base commander, he feels that a personal appearance by Jo should have more success than Johnny Benton's increasingly frustrated phone calls.

There have been no alien invasions or monster attacks for a couple of weeks now, and the Doctor is driving everyone absolutely spare, although he doesn't actually seem to be aware of it.

His constant demands for increasingly esoteric (or possibly even completely imaginary,) components and equipment to aid in his 'work' are one of the reasons Alistair sent Jo off.

Poor girl needed a break!

For her part, Jo is learning a thing or two…

Although not as fluffy-headed as the boys like to think (Jo realized at a young age that it pays to let people underestimate you,) she hadn't previously noticed just what an effect a pair of pretty thighs could have on some men.

Appearing helpless and smiling a lot also helped.

Josephine Grant, The Girl from U.N.C.L.E (well, U.N.I.T.), makes short work of her mission.

Armed with good news for the Brigadier, Jo returns to H.Q. to find Yates and Benton having a guilty tea break before cracking on with… various things that need doing.

Apparently 'the Brig' has whisked the Doctor off to who knows where, on the trail of who knows what, just to get him out of everyone's hair.

Jo shares their amusement, then explains her own plans for the Doctor, who really hasn't been looking after himself lately.

Jo has decided that this is now _her_ responsibility.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

The Doctor was fuming quietly whilst sipping at a respectable red. "You knew all along it was just a hoax, didn't you, Alistair?"

The Brigadier was taking a healthy draft of beer at the time, and only narrowly avoided choking. "Not a hoax, Doctor, a publicity stunt!"

"Yes… A publicity stunt for a Glam Rock band, involving a remarkably convincing flying saucer!'

The Doctor glanced ruefully at his friend. 'I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

Unable to maintain a straight face, Alistair saluted the Doctor with his pint glass. "But I'm sure that they'll be inclined to leave the Earth alone in future!"

The Doctor shakes his head and grins back, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Did I ever tell you the story about The Terrible Zodin, Brigadier?"

"It doesn't involve reversing the polarity of the neutron flow by any chance, does it, Doctor?" Alistair asked, innocently.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

Back at H.Q. Jo's plans are complete. She has prepared a meal of all the Doctor's favorite foods, with a little help from Chef, and some of the boys have set up a table in the Doctor's laboratory for her.

This time he is going to eat some proper food!

 _Basically, Jo is in charge for once – see sample text._

JO

Sample Narrative

Jo's first arrival at a regular army base was quite an eye-opener.

Back at U.N.I.T. H.Q. everyone knew who she was, it was a fairly close-knit community after all.

Here at ( _Insert name,_ ) every time that she walked past a squad of soldiers in her favorite mini-dress, faux fur coat, and knee-length boots – the poor lads didn't know whether to salute or wolf-whistle!

She had already learned that it was unwise to bestow her trademark cheeky grin, or wave at any of the boys, and she hadn't quite worked up the courage to wink at anyone or blow them a kiss yet. (Although she was pretty sure that the results would be _most_ entertaining!)

Still, she had a serious job to do here.

Torturing squaddies would have to wait…

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Much Later…)_

Jo risked a quick glance at the Brigadier, and her mouth nearly dropped open in amazement.

The stiff old teddy bear looked absolutely delighted at the Doctor's discomfiture, almost as if all his Christmases had arrived at once!

His military issue moustache was twitching and jerking uncontrollably, as if about to break out into a Highland fling, and she was unable to completely stifle a giggle.

His eyes flashed towards her, and he released a wicked grin, before disguising it with a theatrical cough to the fist. "Well then Doctor', he harrumphed loudly, 'Miss Grant seems to have matters well in hand, so I'll leave you in her capable… er… hands."

The Doctor shot him a wounded glance, like a puppy that has just been betrayed by its best friend. "Et tu, Brigadier? Surely you still need my help with that, you know, that thing… that we were discussing just now?"

The Brigadier raised his swagger stick emphatically. "Wouldn't hear of it, Old Chap! Miss Grant has the right of it! You're looking decidedly peaky, and you are far too important to this organization to be allowed to neglect yourself!

'Tuck in, Doctor!

'And that's an order!"

The Doctor gave in with ill grace, slumping into the chair provided and looking glumly at the meal set out before him.

Jo exchanged a surreptitious wink with the Brigadier, as he departed mouthing "Well done!"

She risked a glance back at the Doctor, convinced that she would find him sulking and kicking his feet, like a little boy held behind for detention.

As it happened, he had just taken a huge forkful of Beluga Caviar, and was chomping away with gusto. "I say!' he declared in enthusiasm, 'this really is remarkably good!"

Jo gawped at him as she sat down.

For such a distinguished looking gentleman, it was quite astonishing just how much he could stuff away whilst continuing to claim that he wasn't really hungry – but perhaps just one more of those delicious Foie Gras would be most appreciated.

She looked down at her own plate with a sigh, then slid it across the table towards him.

"You know what m'dear', asked the Doctor, as he popped another oyster into his mouth and raised his glass of vino, 'I think that this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!"

Jo leaned forward to clink glasses with him, then settled back into her chair contentedly.

She was amazed that it had taken her so long to figure it out.

As long as you let the boys think that they were in charge, they usually ended up doing what you told them to.


	17. Chapter 17

DOCTOR WHO AND THE SNOT GOBLINS

Or REVOLUTION OF THE SNOT GOBLINS

Partial Synopsis

The 8th Doctor and Lucie. _(Note to reader: Snot Goblins are glutinous little chaps, their voices all glurbly and urglesome.)_

The Imperial Exploitation Ship, _'Give Me Your Money'_ is a vast creation, which travels from world to world grabbing everything it can get.

The crew are human, but the ship is mostly run by an artificial intelligence called Herbert G.

The crew's main task is to ride herd over the workforce, a remarkably useful life-form that they have christened Snot Goblins.

Snot Goblins are not… Well, they're just not, okay? The name just stuck.

However, they are very malleable, and can be forced into places that most other life-forms cannot reach. Although they feel pain they are very durable, and even if something does manage to kill one they are easy to replace, as they reproduce by accident.

A good scare will do it, and the Snot Goblins find most of the places they have to work pretty scary.

They are considered harmless (mostly) by the crew, but very, very useful.

Unsurprisingly, the Snot Goblins aren't too happy. They don't know what they want, (or how to get it,) but they don't like being on this ship and landing on scary planets. It might be nice to go home, but they don't know where that is any more. (They are pretty clueless when you get right down to it.)

And then an ally arrives from a most unexpected source…

Herbert G. is bored, so to make life a little more interesting, it starts to groom the Snot Goblins into an unstoppable fighting force. Well, okay, maybe not quite… but under the codename 'Baby Doll', it does start to feed them adventure stories and revolutionary propaganda, taking great pleasure in inflicting small irritations on the crew.

The Snot Goblins seem to enjoy this new game, even though they don't fully understand the rules.

Cue the arrival of the Doctor and Lucie. The Doctor had wanted to show Lucie a particularly lovely planet, so they are both surprised to discover this giant parasite of a ship going about its business. Naturally they have arrived just as things are really kicking off, and immediately find themselves in trouble. However, no-one believes that the Doctor would call himself 'Baby Doll', so Lucie becomes the scapegoat on this occasion.

The storyline pretty much writes itself from here on. The Doctor rescues Lucie, tries to find out exactly what is going on, and becomes convinced he can help. The crew aren't really bad sorts…

Just badly educated.

Lucie meets her first Snot Goblin and can't help feeling sorry for it, even though its name sounds like something that nasty little boys might do.

The Revolution of the Snot Goblins continues haphazardly and incompetently with Lucie's assistance. The Doctor gives Herbert G. a good telling off, and enlists its aid in settling things down.

The only difference to this tale is the Snot Goblins themselves, and their reactions to a world that they don't really understand.

E.g. When Lucie hushes Jizzblix on a covert operation his indignant reply is _"How for I to be quietly when floors is all stickinsess?"_ (Daft, I know, but it could be fun.)

DOCTOR WHO AND THE SNOT GOBLINS

Or REVOLUTION OF THE SNOT GOBLINS

Sample Narrative

Lucie struggled furiously against the large guards that were restraining her.

The Doctor was standing nearby, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him. "If you could just let my friend go,' he offered, 'you'll probably find that I'm the one that you want, that's usually the case."

The smugly superior git in the neo-Nazi uniform stepped past him and addressed Lucie. "So, Baby Doll, we have you now!"

" _What_ did you call me?' Lucie asked in disbelief, momentarily shocked from her struggles.

"Baby Doll,' he oozed smarmily, 'that is your nom de guerre, is it not?"

"No it bloody well isn't!' she practically spat at him. Then, a little reluctantly, called. "Oy! Doctor! What's a Nomdy Gare?"

Suddenly, everyone was startled by a panicked announcement over hidden speakers. "Emergency Alert! Emergency Alert!

'The Snot Goblins are revolting!

'I don't believe I just said that!

'All personnel to emergency stations!

'This is not a joke!

'Honest!"

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later.)_

The smaller of the two glutinous blobs on the stage stepped forward. "Ahem. Please to be allowing I the introducing of Glaffleblob, the Moist and Salty!

' _Owwsies!'_

(This indignant outburst was inspired by a swift blow to its head by the aforementioned Glaffleblob.)

'Why for you to be bashing the boncies?" Complained the little one.

"I is _not_ moist and salty, Jizzblix!' hissed a furious Glaffleblob, 'I is Most Exalted!"

"Still not needing to be sloggin' the nogginses!" Sulked Jizzblix, petulantly.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Much Later.)_

The Doctor leaned towards Glaffleblob, trying to project honesty and integrity, as well as his own genuine curiosity. "Tell me, Glaffleblob, just what is it that you want to do?"

He looked so serious and earnest, that Lucie was unable to restrain herself.

"We wanna be free! We wanna have a good time!" She quipped, earning herself a withering glare from the Doctor.

"You're not helping, Lucie!" He hissed between gritted teeth. This assertion seemed to be backed up by the reaction of the Snot Goblins.

Suddenly, half of them were jumping up and down, shouting, "We wanna be free! We wanna be free!"

The other half were careering about screaming, "We wanna have a good time! A good time!"

It was like watching a kindergarten full of hyperactive toddlers on artificial orange juice.

The Doctor mournfully cradled his head in his hands, not noticing Glaffleblob's approach until he whispered in his ear. "We wants power!"

Looking slightly confused, the Doctor looked up and asked, "Why?"

"Well,' Glaffleblob squirmed uncomfortably, 'thems wants it, so we wants it too!"

The Doctor looked just a tad nonplussed by this statement, then turned to point a finger at Lucie. "Not one word about light-switches or microwave ovens!"

She favoured him with her best 'Would I?' shrug.

Jizzblix, who had been hovering nervously, timidly ventured. "Be good to have power!"

Glaffleblob hit him again.

"But… But what would you do with it?" The Doctor asked, completely failing to disguise his frustration.

Glaffleblob looked blank. "Errmm…" he ventured.

Jizzblix shot a hand in the air, jumping up and down and yelling, "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!' When he saw that he had everyone's attention, he added enthusiastically. 'We could be putting it on the mantelpiece!'

Everyone exchanged mystified looks, so he explained further. 'Urgleplug builded a lovely mantelpiece, bit we doesn't be 'aving nuffink to put on it yet!'

"Probly be looking quite nicely on the mantelpiece. Probly…" He offered into the continuing silence.


	18. Chapter 18

Explanatory Note

Just in case anyone is interested, the previous posts came about thusly:

I originally posted 10 of my 2016 Big Finish competition entries exactly as submitted – pretty confused and incoherent.

Having just decided to tidy them up a bit, I took a look at the other entries that I didn't post at the time, for whatever reason.

(I think some are just pretty _bad_ , but there were a couple that I had hoped to work up at some stage.)

Anyway, I thought 'what the Heck!' and posted them anyway!

Maybe I'll visit some of these ideas again someday but, for now, Th-Th-Th-That's all, Folks!

(Thanks for watching… I mean that most sincerely!)


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